Tomorrow, I pick up my shovel and find my way out of the piles of paperwork and books and half-finished tasks in my office. The more clutter I can remove, I believe, the clearer I shall think.
A house across the street and down the block is on the market, and I wish we could have ours ready to roll as well; it would be good to ride on the tailcoats of that sale. That house has just been gutted and revamped in a very standard style, fit to sell. Ours is nothing but character: wooden garage door, flowers everywhere in the front yard. I know which one I'd rather buy. Actually, I also know which one I want to sell.
What I don't yet know is where our next home will be. This is me, trying to remember to trust in the process and know the timing will be right when it's right.
Still: decluttering is on the books, after coffee with one friend and before a dog-walk with another.
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